


Sportarhino

by someoneplsloverobbierotten



Category: LazyTown
Genre: Caught in the Rain, M/M, Onesies, Pre-Slash, Tumblr Prompt, no one makes a move Robbie's just crushing hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-15
Updated: 2017-03-15
Packaged: 2018-10-05 17:20:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10313255
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/someoneplsloverobbierotten/pseuds/someoneplsloverobbierotten
Summary: Robbie plans to nap through a rainy day in LazyTown, but doesn't get even ten minuets into it before he has to deal with a drenched sports elf.After taking Sportacus in - thanks to the soft side that Robbie definitely Does Not Have - Robbie has to find something dry for him to change into: a massive difficulty when everything Robbie owns is made for a long slim figure, instead of a short and ridiculously broad and muscled one. He eventually finds something, but it might not be as good an idea as he'd originally thought.





	

**Author's Note:**

> https://sportainsanity.tumblr.com/post/157914112182/imagine
> 
> i saw this ^ prompt by tumblr user sportainsanity and couldn't get it out of my head. not only is it hilarious and unbelievably adorable, but i love making robbie Suffer, so here.
> 
> hope you like it!
> 
> (apologies for likely terrible tense use and the lame title)

It was absolutely _horrible_ weather outside.

It had been throwing it down all morning, harsh winds blowing waves of freezing water into the face of anyone stupid enough to be outside. Robbie had heard the sound of heavy rain pelting down onto the ground above, taken one look through his periscope, and promptly decided that the best plan of action was to nap through it.

He'd been comforted by the thought that the rain itself should leave him relatively undisturbed to accomplish this; the kids certainly wouldn’t be out and about in weather like this, which meant Sportadork would probably be ensconced in his airship doing whatever instead flipping around the town after them, leaving Robbie to curl up in his recliner and slumber peacefully in his warm, dry lair.

It lasted a whole eight minutes.

Someone started furiously banging on the entrance hatch to Robbie’s lair, waking him up so suddenly that he jumped and tumbled over the arm of his chair. His eyes weren’t even fully open before he was flinging himself out of his chair and storming over to the entrance pipe, screaming at whoever was making that awful racket – at whoever had _dared_ interrupt his nap.

As he hauled himself up into the pipe so he could give the _lunatic_ beating up his hatch a piece of his mind he heard the slightly panicked tones of a sports elf.

Robbie hissed. Sportadung, _of course_.

Over the rain and the banging Robbie couldn’t make out what he was saying, the idiot, but he didn’t care, he was going to open that hatch and _kill him_.

He scrambled up the pipe with the kind of speed only achieved by those in a true rage and threw up the lid of the hatch.

“ _What_ ,” he hissed, planning on launching into a full-on rant and not actually giving the elf any time to reply, but the words died in his mouth as soon as he actually caught sight of the bedraggled figure before him.

Sportacus absolutely was absolutely _drenched_ , his clothes clearly soaked through to the skin and his cap just a soggy ball clenched in one fist, his golden curls plastered to his head and dripping. He looked like a drowned rat, and Robbie couldn’t help but gape at him.

Seeing Sportacus like this was a shock to the villain’s system. The hero usually seemed unaffected by the weather, running around in snow or sun or even hurricanes looking no different from normal. The most he’d ever seen Sportacus do weather-wise was put on a pretty pathetic scarf when they were under two feet of snow. He didn’t even take off his jacket at the peak of summer.

“Robbie!” He gasped, “thank goodness you’re in! Can – can I come in, please? I got caught in the rain after rescuing the kitten that and my ships above the clouds–”

Robbie snapped out of his staring. Sportaloser was stuck? Locked out of his own ship? In this weather? He didn’t know if he wanted to laugh or drag the man down to his lair and drape him across a radiator, but then he noticed Sportacus shivering and what little anger Robbie had left at Sportacus for waking him up promptly evaporated at the sight.

“Get in then.” The villain gestured towards the pipe.

Sportacus cut off his begging ramble, surprised. He obviously wasn’t expecting Robbie to agree that fast.

Neither was Robbie to be honest. He’d expected himself to at least _pretend_ to consider letting Sportaloon in. Still, keeping the hatch open even slightly was getting Robbie wet and letting water into the lair; speed – as uncharacteristic as it was – was probably a good choice here.

“Your ears’ll catch a cold,” he pointed out when Sportacus didn’t move.

The elf blushed, ducking his head – like that would make them any less obvious – and moved to follow Robbie down the pipe.

Sportacus’s feet had barely touched the ground before he was practically tripping over his own words in his haste to thank Robbie for letting him in.

Robbie rolled his eyes. “I wasn’t going to _leave_ you out there you idiot. Now come on, your dripping on my floor.”

It was easily moppable, but that wasn’t the point. Robbie would still have to _do_ something about it, and he hated doing things.

“Go sit down and I’ll get you a towel or something,” Robbie ordered, pointing to his recliner and stalking off.

When he came back from the bathroom, he caught sight of his chair and dropped the towel, immediately running over. He’d been gone sixty seconds, if _that_ , and his favourite chair was _soaked_.

“Up!” he shrieked, “up, up, up, up!”

Sportacus shot out of the chair, confused as Robbie shoved him towards a door in the back of the lair, barely slowing to scoop up the dropped towel.

“How long were you _out_ there?” Robbie demanded.

“I- I took a few minutes trying to get the ship down.”

Robbie shoved him into the bathroom. “Get in there and shower– get warm, and– and, _normal_ quantities of wet.”

Sportacus blushed again and started to say something but Robbie closed the bathroom door on him before he could, hurrying back to his chair he surveyed the damage.

It was sopping.

It’d take _ages_ to dry, and would probably smell like wet elf for weeks. He turned the heating up a few notches; it wouldn’t help much, but he’d take everything he could get and it might help Sportadamp get warm quicker.

A shout came from the bathroom and Robbie almost slammed his head into the wall. He gave himself a second to scream quietly before going to see what was going on.

“What are you _doing_ in there?” he called through the bathroom door.

“I can’t get it to work!” came the answering wail.

Robbie stared at the door in disbelief, clawing at the air in front of it. How? _How?_

“Are you decent,” he ground out after a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Yes!”

Robbie opened the door to the bathroom.

Sportacus was **_not_** decent. Aside from one of Robbie’s purple towels around his waist, the hero was completely naked, muscles bulging and abs glistening from the rain water. Robbie’s mouth went dry. This was not decent at all, this was the very _opposite_ of decent.

“I can’t work the knobs,” Sportacus said pathetically, and Robbie’s brain short circuited.

He felt himself stalk towards the shower and heard himself shout instructions on how to work it, but his actual brain was concentrating on Sportacus without the majority of his clothes. He didn’t notice that Sportadoof had been trying interrupt his blustering explanation of how to work the shower to say something until he actually touched Robbie on the shoulder, and the villain jumped about a foot in the air.

“ _What?_ ”

Sportacus reeled back a bit from Robbie’s sudden movement and gestured at his clothes, which were hung over the radiator. Sportanerd had ever-so thoughtfully put a towel underneath the radiator so they didn’t drip straight onto the floor.

“They won’t dry for a while Robbie, do you, um,” Sportacus hesitated, his cheeks going a bit pink. “Do you have anything I can wear?”

Oh.

_OH_.

“Sure.” Robbie told him – a complete lie – and after making sure Sportadingbat wouldn’t break his shower trying to use it, he left the elf to it, keeping his gaze trained on the floor as he did so.

When he got back to the main lair Robbie immediately started dragging as many space heaters as he could find over to his chair, setting them up in a circle around it while he thought over what he could get Sportaflip to wear. All his disguises were specifically designed for him, so they were tailored to his exact measurements. He didn’t own anything that wasn’t.

With most people Sportacus’s height, something of Robbie’s would still technically fit – it would just be too big; a shirt or a hoodie that fit Robbie would drown someone as short as Sportacus, practically becoming a dress. The problem was that Sportacus had unusually broad shoulders that would render anything Robbie had absolutely useless. Nothing Robbie had was wide enough in the shoulders, and anything that came close would probably burst at the seams if the elf so much as _breathed,_ never mind if he attempted one of those stupid flips or handstands.

Robbie could just see Sportacus doing something as simple as gesturing at something and splitting the seam on the sleeve of one of Robbie’s shirts. Wow.

Robbie shook himself, switching on the heaters. He was re-adjusting the angle of some of them when he remembered; he _did_ have stuff that didn’t fit him.

Anything he’d gotten that didn’t fit him he put in scrap buckets, either to alter later so it _would_ fit, or if he couldn’t alter it he could save it as scrap material. Perhaps there was something in there that could fit Sportacus and his stupid Sportamuscles.

He went to his shelves and dug through a couple of huge plastic bins filled with failed costumes and old clothes and materials. Nothing was any good. Half of it had already been used at some point and was partially cut up, and the rest was stuff that needed altering to fit Robbie, none of which would fit Sportacus either though – everything still too thin in the shoulders and arms. Robbie dug right to the bottom of the bins, finding something promisingly soft in one of them. It felt like fleece and Robbie hauled it out, immediately bursting into laughter.

Oh _wow_ , he’d completely forgotten about this. It was a grey fleece rhino onesie. He’d originally bought it for a quick fix disguise, planning on modifying it a bit to bring it up to par but he never had done. The onesie had been much too short for him, even though it was one of the bigger sizes; too short to alter. He’d abandoned the entire disguise for something different in the end – a lion, if he remembered correctly – and thrown this in a scrap bin. The fleece was good quality and very comfy, so he’d been happy to use it for something else even if he was angry about not being able to use it for its original purpose.

He’d never gotten around to that either, so the onesie remained intact and unaltered from when he’d bought it. Robbie held it up to inspect it, pleased to find that it was more than wide enough for Sportacus.

Grinning in delight, Robbie went back to the bathroom, pausing outside the door. outside the door. The water was still on and he could hear the elf singing in the shower. Robbie pulled his ear away, grimacing. Sportacus wasn’t singing loud, but _ugh_. The hero couldn’t sing for toffee – well, sportscandy.

He quickly knocked on the door, loudly, and the singing stopped – thank goodness.

“Robbie?” Sportacus called, “Is that you?”

“I found something that’ll fit you,” Robbie told him in lieu of an answer. “I’ve put it by the door,” he told him, desperately trying not to giggle.

“Oh! Thank you Robbie! I’ll be out soon.”

Robbie didn’t answer because he knew he’d laugh if he did, and went back to the main lair. He spent the next ten minutes finding a hairdryer and then modifying it so he could speed up the process of drying his chair.

When Sportacus finally emerged from the shower and came to join him Robbie nearly had an aneurism.

Robbie didn’t often refer to things as cute, or adorable. There wasn’t anything _wrong_ with using those words, Robbie just never found a lot of stuff that applied to it.

Sportacus dressed in a too-big fleece rhino onesie and staring down in confusion at one of the cuffed sleeves, however, was absolutely _adorable_.

Robbie was thankful that the elf was staring so intently at the sleeve because he couldn’t help the hand that flew to his open mouth, hopefully hiding the redness that he could feel spreading over his cheeks.

The material bunched at Sportacus’s wrists because the arms were too long, the same for his ankles. It drowned his waist, and was even a little big at the shoulders. He had the hood up, but only loosely; slightly damp gold curls were slipping out in every direction, utterly untameable, and his ears were clearly visible beneath the large hood, flushed at the tips from the warm shower.

_‘This is what dying feels like.’_ Robbie thought, feeling a bit light-headed.

“I’m not sure what this is,” Sportacus said, frowning at slightly at the cuff, “but um, thank you. It’s very soft.”

“It’s a rhino.”

Sportacus chuckled. “Oh, yes the horns.” He reached up and ran a finger over the larger felt horn. “But I’ve never seen anything like this before. Is it a costume?”

“It’s a onesie. Comfy stuff for lounging around in.” Robbie explained. “You can get normal looking ones but there are a lot of ones like this out there too.”

“Ah,” Sportacus nodded, then shook one of his legs a little, watching the loose fabric shift around his ankle. “I like it. It’s comfy.” He repeated the same movement with the other leg, then seemed to snap himself out of his little experiment. “I just left my clothes on the radiator.”

Sportacus turned around to gesture at the door that led to the bathroom and Robbie nearly fainted. The onesie had a tiny little tail attached to the back of it, and it swung behind him when he turned back to Robbie.

“That’s fine,” Robbie choked out.

Sportacus looked at the circle of heaters with a frown. “I’m sorry about you chair.”

“It’s fine!” Robbie assured him, voice a little hoarse. “Absolutely fine, won’t take more than a day.” Or eight, but he wasn’t going to tell the sad rhino that.

Sportacus’s eyes brightened at Robbie’s assurance, though there was still an underlying trace of guilt in his expression.

“Is the weather any better?” the elf asked, and Robbie raised an eyebrow at him, gesturing widely to the roof of the lair. The sound of heavy rain hitting metal was almost drowning. He didn’t know how Sportadumb could’ve missed it.

“Oh!” Sportacus grinned sheepishly, “I guess I tuned it out – it sounds like the shower anyway.”

Still what an idiot.

_‘A cute idiot–’_ Robbie cut his treacherous brain off immediately. _No_.

“So how come you got stuck out there anyway?” Robbie asked. “Ship throwing a temper tantrum, or did you actually manage to lock yourself out?” He smirked.

Sportacus laughed and – _good grief_ , if that wasn’t a sight.

“No no–” he broke off, looking thoughtful for a moment. “Well, actually I kind of did?”

Robbie’s eyes nearly bugged out of his head. Sportadork had actually locked himself out of his own ship? Oh, this was too good.

“My ship has a protocol to automatically get above the clouds during bad weather and stay there until it clears up, to protect it,” the hero explained, “I went out to rescue the kitten before it got too bad out, but it got worse, and when I got back to the ship it’d already gone above the clouds. I couldn’t get it back down.”

Robbie exploded into laughter, doubling over and clutching his stomach. Oh, oh _wow_ – Sportastupid had literally been locked out of his ship. Tears started welling at the corners of his eyes and he was finding it a little difficult to breathe.

He could hear Sportacus chuckle along with him.

Eventually Robbie’s guffaws petered out and he stood, wiping tears from his eyes.

“Pretty dumb, right?” Sportacus smirked.

Robbie snorted, disgustingly loud, and he shoved a hand over his mouth. Sportacus seemed to smirk even wider.

“You’re such an _idiot_ ,” Robbie told him.

Sportacus smiled at him, and Robbie’s stomach started doing weird things. Anger, is what that was, at Sportacus not being insulted.

“When do you think the rain will stop?” Sportacus asked, and Robbie scoffed.

“What am I, a weather man? How should I know?”

Sportacus just shrugged.

“If it’s this heavy now, I hardly think it’s going to stop anytime soon,” Robbie told him, crossing his arms and rolling his eyes.

“Oh.” Sportacus shuffled on his feet – come to think of it, Robbie hadn’t seen him do so much as a cartwheel since he’d been down here. He must be getting restless.

“If you have to… flip, or- or something, fine.” Robbie said, “just do it where I don’t have to watch.”

The elf hastily put up his hands “no, no I– I just don’t want to impose that’s all – you must’ve been very busy before I came and interrupted, and now I’m stuck here for, well, a while.”

Well, Robbie _had_ been napping and that was very important indeed, but it wasn’t as if the dumb elf had interrupted him actually working on something. Still, it hadn’t clicked that once he’d gotten Sportacus in the lair and dry he’d be _in the lair_. Not only that, but he was now going to be in the lair for a few hours at least.

What on earth could he do with Sportacus around? What could _Sportacus_ do down here in Robbie’s lair? There were no fruit or vegetables, no sports stuff. Robbie couldn’t work on anything related to a scheme with the hero around, and he couldn’t nap with his chair out of commission. (He could technically nap in his actual bed, but that would mean leaving Sportacus unsupervised in his main lair and that was not going to happen.)

He caught sight of the scrap bins, left out from his previous rummaging.

“Well.” He managed eventually. “You… do what you want. I have work to do.” He marched off towards the bins and started pulling out stuff to make alterations on. “Just don’t _touch_ anything. There’s dangerous equipment in here; I’m not having you bowing up anything important – or anything at all, actually.”

He grabbed a couple of simpler costumes and a jacket that needed to be taken in and dumped them on the rug by the chair. He couldn’t be bothered setting up his sewing machine or putting effort into clearing a bench to work on. Instead, he pulled out a reel of thread and his folder of needles and went to sit on the rug. He dragged some pillows over too and made a little nest so he could be comfortable whilst he was sewing. It wasn’t as good as his chair, but it was still pretty good, and the warmth from the heaters was nice.

Sportacus looked at him for a moment before he flipped himself over and did a couple of handstands whilst Robbie threaded his needle. He moved on to push-ups whilst Robbie was knotting his thread. Apparently, he’d already marked down the alterations for this particular costume when he’d put it in the scrap bin so he got right to work, sewing along his guidelines carefully.

After he’d finished with one like of stitches he looked up to check Sportastupid wasn’t getting himself into trouble. He was doing sit ups a few meters away. His hood had fallen down, revealing haphazardly drying curls and pointed ears.

It was a surreal sight; a grown elf doing sit ups in a fleece rhino onesie, and Robbie almost stabbed himself with the needle.

Robbie pulled himself back from his staring and started on the next line of stitches. When he looked up again he screamed – Sportacus had stopped exercising and had somehow crept up on him, and was now lying on his stomach barely a foot away from Robbie watching.

Sportacus jumped when Robbie screamed and gave a little yelp, and if Robbie hadn’t been so terrified he would’ve called it cute.

“I’m sorry!” Sportacus scrambled back a bit whilst Robbie clutched his sewing and caught his breath. “I– it just looked so interesting and–”

“So you decided to _sneak up on me?_ ” Robbie shrieked.

“I didn’t mean to!” Sportacus told him. “You were concentrating and I guess I am kind of quiet–”

“I’ve got to get you a _bell_ or something, jeez,” Robbie grumbled, checking to make sure he hadn’t ripped a stitch or lost the thread in his fright. He did notice Sportacus settle down near him again, resting his chin in his hands. He was about to comment on Sportacus actually being still for once when he noticed that the elf’s legs were stuck up behind him, swinging backwards and forwards and– wow, okay. That in combination with the rhino onesie was making his heart do funny things.

He forced his gaze back down to his sewing, but after a few minutes of quiet stitching he couldn’t take it anymore and lowered the needle.

“If you’re going to just watch me sew then you may as well make some coco first. I’ll be here a while.” He huffed at the elf. Sportacus immediately opened his mouth but Robbie cut him off, “I _know_ you can’t have the coco, but you can have the milk,” he sighed. “You know, if you want.”

“That sounds nice,” Sportacus said, smiling at Robbie before pushing himself up off the rug and flipping upright.

Robbie grimaced at the action, watching the elf bounding over to the little kitchenette. “There’s milk in the fridge and mugs and coco powder in the cupboard next to it.”

He managed to add a couple of small stitches to the costume, but his attention was mostly on Sportacus. He watched the elf pull some mugs and the tin of coco out of the cupboard, a normal action made so much more ridiculous by the onesie.

Robbie carried on his sewing on autopilot, but whilst the quality was good he hadn’t made much progress by the time Sportacus finished making their drinks.

When Sportacus brought the mugs over, his little tail swishing, Robbie had to supress some sort of high pitched whine that he apparently wanted to make. Sportacus handed Robbie the mug with coco in and returned to his previous position, legs swinging back and forth to keep himself moving in some way whilst he watched Robbie sew. He hadn’t put his hood back up, letting a halo of fluffy curls frame his smiling face. That, in combination with Sportacus practically swimming in the oversized onesie, laid on his stomach holding his chin in his hands and kicking his legs like a small child, and the way he was watching Robbie sew like it was the best thing in the world nearly did him in.

Robbie carefully ignored the butterflies beginning to flutter about in his stomach and started a new line of stitches, deciding there and then that he was never _ever_ letting Sportacus return that onesie.


End file.
